


Don't You Ever Knock?

by EmilaWanKenobi



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:21:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1661252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilaWanKenobi/pseuds/EmilaWanKenobi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan forgets to knock and sees something he shouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't You Ever Knock?

**Author's Note:**

> Answer to a first line challenge by Master Ruth, damn her. *G*

|  [Master Apprentice](http://www.masterapprentice.org/html/index.html) [Archive](http://www.masterapprentice.org/html/archive.html) Don't You Ever Knock?  | 

Quick search:   
  
---|---  
  
## Don't You Ever Knock?

### by Emila-Wan Kenobi 

    

Feedback: Oh, give it to me baby ... [emila_wan@yahoo.com](mailto:emila_wan@yahoo.com)

Archive: M_A. Others please ask. Also archived at <http://www.jediphiles.com/index69.htm>

Category: PWP

Pairing: Q/O

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: None

Summary: Obi-Wan forgets to knock and sees something he shouldn't.

Disclaimer: George Lucas is da man. He owns everything. We just play.

Warnings: None

Series: None, thank the Maker

Note: Answer to a first line challenge by Master Ruth, damn her. *G*

    

"But Master, aren't those supposed to be for girls?"

Qui-Gon froze, completely unable to think of an explanation for what he held in his hand. He'd just finished washing it, and had been about to put it back in its hiding place behind the Neimoidian Philosophy tomes on his bookshelf (he was sure no one would ever take one of the volumes down, so his secret was safe), when Obi-Wan had opened the door.

"Don't you ever knock?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Sometimes," Obi-Wan answered flippantly. "What _*are*_ you doing with that thing, anyway?"

Qui-Gon cleared his throat, reminding himself silently that it was unbecoming of a Jedi to lie, while at the same time fervently wishing that a convincing untruth would pop into his head. He turned around, swinging the offending object out of view behind his back as he did so.

"Is there something you needed, Padawan?"

Obi-Wan was not so easily deterred. The young man could not quite contain a mischievous grin as he strode -- no, slinked, Qui-Gon thought distractedly -- closer and craned his neck to get a better look.

Qui-Gon considered ordering his padawan out of the room, with a stern admonishment about privacy, the courtesy of knocking on doors, and the diplomatic necessity of _*taking a hint,*_ but he knew that would not be the end of it. Not unless he was willing to be truly harsh. And Obi-Wan did not deserve that. Besides, it was hard to be harsh when the young man was standing so close and looking so ... incredibly edible.

With a sigh, Qui-Gon brought his hand around and held the item up for inspection. He told himself there was no cause to be embarrassed. It was a natural need, after all. And he had to have _*some*_ way to release that sort of ... tension ... when meditation failed. As it often had these last few years, what with Obi-Wan being ... Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon contained a shiver of desire and relentlessly forced his thoughts away from the contemplation of his apprentice -- his very sexy, beautiful, well-endowed, sensual, experienced, and quite-understandably-not-interested-in-a-lecherous-old-man apprentice.

"Is that what I think it is, Master?" Obi-Wan's grin widened -- as did his eyes. "It's ... rather impressive."

Qui-Gon started to say that he had chosen the size to match what he knew of Obi-Wan's proportions, but he stopped himself. _*That way lies madness.*_

Obi-Wan stepped forward, and before Qui-Gon could think to stop him, he'd taken the object from Qui-Gon's hand. Qui-Gon stood there, stunned and humiliated, wishing he could instantly discorporate into the Force.

Obi-Wan took a step back and examined the item more closely. His gaze returned to Qui-Gon after a moment. Qui-Gon thought he could see green sparks flying out of the young man's eyes, so great was his amusement. His hand had begun stroking the item almost absently. "You like to take it up the ass?" Obi-Wan said. His voice sounded oddly ... husky.

What could one answer to that? Qui-Gon cleared his throat again. "I hardly think \--"

But Obi-Wan wasn't listening. He had stepped closer, right into Qui-Gon's personal space, and slid the large, silicone phallus along the outside of Qui-Gon's thigh. "Is that what you were doing in here so long, all by yourself?"

Qui-Gon lunged for the thing, grasping at the straps, but Obi-Wan managed to dance out of his reach, chuckling.

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon said, in that stern masterly tone that threatened unspeakable punishments if he were not obeyed instantly.

Obi-Wan fled to the other side of the bed, twirling the dildo by its harness. "What do you fasten it to? This?" Obi-Wan grabbed the stuffed backrest that Qui-Gon used when sitting up reading in bed and hefted it as if testing its weight. "Yes, this would do nicely."

Qui-Gon found himself frozen again, paralyzed by anger, humiliation, shame, and desperate longing. To be taunted so -- by the one person he loved more than life itself, the one person whom he could never, ever have -- hurt more than he would have thought possible. Adding to his shame was the sudden realization that he was rock hard. He covered his face with one hand and gestured sharply towards the door with the other. "Get out," he managed to say, throat unbearably tight.

Obi-Wan stopped. He dropped the backrest onto the bed and came around to stand before Qui-Gon. "I'm sorry," he said in a subdued voice. He held out the dildo, offering it back.

Qui-Gon took it and turned away. "Get out," he said again, but with no force behind it. He suddenly felt utterly defeated and weary.

Obi-Wan did not move. "I didn't meant to offend you. I was only teasing."

Qui-Gon stared at the bookshelf, vacillating between a desire to hide the dildo again but not wanting Obi-Wan to see where he put it, and a desire to toss it down the garbage chute. "Yes, well, you're exceedingly good at that, aren't you?" He was surprised at the level of bitterness in his own voice. Surely a Jedi Master should have more serenity, even when his most tender feelings are completely debased and exposed by the one he cares about most.

He knew it was coming, felt Obi-Wan step closer, felt his hand through the Force before he it landed gently on his shoulder, but still Qui-Gon flinched and hissed softly at the touch. Obi-Wan's hand tightened, comforting, warm, and incredibly, horribly arousing.

"Master," Obi-Wan breathed. "What's really bothering you?"

Damn his padawan's empathy. Why did Obi-Wan have to pick this moment to exercise his abilities in the Living Force?

"Can't an old man have some secrets?" he said in a strangled voice.

"Not so old," Obi-Wan said softly, and drew nearer until -- oh, Force -- Qui-Gon could feel the heat from his apprentice's body, smell the earthy scent of the soap he used. The very currents of the air around them seemed to caress Qui-Gon's skin, arousing him still further.

Qui-Gon stood there, completely unable to resist, as Obi-Wan took him by the shoulder, turned him around, slid the fingers of his right hand into his hair, and cupped his cheek. "And no, you can't. Not from me." Obi-Wan tugged, gently, and Qui-Gon felt his face being drawn down, as if in a dream. Their lips were only a millimeter apart, breaths mingled. Obi-Wan murmured against him, "Tell me it's not me you think of when you use that thing, and I'll stop."

Qui-Gon forced himself to open his eyes. Yes, Obi-Wan's gaze still held a bit of his irrepressible humor, but there was the heat of desire there, too, and affection, and even \-- dare he believe it? -- love. Qui-Gon tried to answer, but he could not even make so much as a sound.

Obi-Wan smiled gently. "I'll take that as consent."

And then they were kissing, and oh, Force, he had never imagined a simple kiss could feel so good. It went on and on, deepening until their tongues tangled and both of them were making ridiculous whimpering noises and Qui-Gon thought he might come just from the feel of Obi-Wan's mouth on his, Obi-Wan's hands running along his skin under his tunics, Obi-Wan's erection pressing insistently against his thigh.

They broke for air at last. Qui-Gon stood, swaying a bit, unsure what to do next. His body was very certain of what it wanted, but his mind was having a bit of trouble catching up.

Luckily Obi-Wan appeared to have no such problem. He took the dildo from Qui-Gon's hand and tossed it aside. Then he grasped Qui-Gon's hand. "Let me show you what the real thing feels like," he said, and pressed Qui-Gon's palm over his cloth-covered erection. It felt impossibly hard and hot, and Qui-Gon could not suppress a groan.

When had he lost control of the situation? Or had he ever had control in the first place? He didn't know. All he knew was that he couldn't, wouldn't, didn't resist as Obi-Wan led him to the bed. Once there, Obi-Wan pushed him down, stripped him, turned him onto his stomach, and pressed kisses along his spine. Sometime during all that Obi-Wan had taken off his own clothes, and the feel of skin against skin sent Qui-Gon even further into sensory overload. And then Obi-Wan's tongue was caressing him _*there*_ and he'd never even imagined that could feel so _*good*_ and _*oh, Force*_ he was about to come just from _*that*_!

Qui-Gon managed to make some sort of desperate sound, and Obi-Wan _*chuckled*_ with his tongue deep inside, and the vibrations fried what little was left of Qui-Gon's mind. He knew he must be making the most embarrassing noises, but he couldn't help it. He was begging for it now, moaning, "Oh, yes, oh, please, oh, oh, oh ..." Everything in the galaxy had narrowed down until his entire focus was on that tiny opening at the core of his body, and his need to have it filled, stuffed to overflowing, with Obi-Wan's generous cock.

The tongue went away, and Qui-Gon whimpered. Then something slick and hot and very stiff slid into him, and he shouted from the joy of it. This was nothing like the dildo. This was flesh, and blood ... and more than that, it was spirit and soul and heart. Their emotions and pleasure bled out of them and colored the Force around them. Qui-Gon could sense Obi-Wan's extreme pleasure, his love, his lust, and even a bit of smugness at his ability to turn his stoic master into a gibbering idiot.

Obi-Wan thrust hard against him, only a few strokes, and then Qui-Gon was coming, hard, harder than he ever had in his life. Obi-Wan didn't pause but kept pumping, moaning loudly. A few more thrusts and he shouted his own completion, then fell heavily across Qui-Gon's back.

They stayed that way, sweating and panting and moaning and writhing slightly in the aftershocks, until finally Obi-Wan's cock slipped free. They both gasped at that, then rolled apart and turned into each other's arms as if they'd been doing it for years.

Obi-Wan rested his head under Qui-Gon's chin and sighed contentedly. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

Qui-Gon didn't know what to say, so he kissed the top of Obi-Wan's head. "So have I," he muttered.

Obi-Wan chuckled. "I figured that out."

They rested for a moment, then Obi-Wan turned and grinned up at Qui-Gon. "Forgive me for not knocking?"

Qui-Gon burst out laughing. Obi-Wan joined him, and they laughed for a good, long time. Qui-Gon finally had to stop to wipe tears from his eyes before he could answer. "Just this once, Padawan. Just this once."

  
The End.

    


End file.
